


Rogue Musicians Can Drink Tea with Whiskey

by jewelianna88



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelianna88/pseuds/jewelianna88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are more than just ghosts at this castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rogue Musicians Can Drink Tea with Whiskey

Justin became single again in Cincinnati.

That’s how he referred to it- "became single." No one got dumped, and there really wasn’t much of a relationship left to break up by that point. It was more like the end of a movie where everything fades to black, the house lights come up, and reality as you’ve known it for the last bit of time suddenly ceased to exist.

So, he became single again in Cincinnati. He didn’t even really know where Cincinnati was, except it was within a day’s drive of Chicago and really boring. He was at least thankful that the media didn’t find out in Cincinnati.

No, that little nightmare waited until the night before he was performing at his brother’s school in Memphis and then doing a Q&A session with the kids. Perfect timing, really, because middle schoolers would never think of focusing on the interesting part of his career rather than his sex life. They were rather like tabloid reporters in that way.

The rest of the tour was miserable, and when it ended, Justin begged with his assistant to help him get away from the world for a long, long while.

**

At first, he thought it was a joke, a play on the ‘prince of pop’ title that he loathed. After a fifteen hour flight from LA, though, including a long weather delay circling Heathrow, Justin didn’t have the energy to find another place to stay. Despite its appearance, the castle where he would be residing for the next two months was warm and dry, and surprisingly modern on the inside. He slept through the day, woke up for a few hours to eat some dinner, then crashed again until the next day at noon.

Major sleep deprivation, he figured, and arched his back to stretch out the tired, abused muscles. Touring was going to send him to an early grave.

Sunlight streamed in the windows, bouncing off the whitewashed walls. Justin stared at the wood beams that framed the ceiling in the bedroom- or bedchamber, as the butler had called it. He snickered at the idea of having a butler. It was all so British and proper.

He pulled on sweats and went exploring. He’d found his way along the worn carpet runners to the kitchen the night before, but the rest of the castle was still a mystery. It was so cool, staying in a massive stone fortress. He had to get his assistant a really nice present that Christmas for arranging it.

It was quiet, which soothed him. After months of noise, the quiet filled him in a way screams and bass lines never could. He let it ease the little bits of broken heart that still remained. He wasn’t mourning the loss of Cameron so much as the sense of failure that becoming single had left in him.

"No more," he vowed, sipping tea while watching sheep graze on the hillside. No more women, no more hope, no more relationships. Three strikes, and you’re out. Three failed relationships, and Justin knew enough to stop trying.

So, a castle in Wales, limited communication with the outside world, and tea. It was just what Justin needed to reevaluate his life and figure out what to do next. There was even a music room where he could wile away the day.

Two days later, he was back to square one, after his grand plan of skateboarding through the wide stone hallways turned calamitous when a stone stuck up from the floor. He waited until late in the night to go to the hospital, where the doctors were all quite nice. The black cast made him feel like he was 16 again. At least this time he wasn’t performing.

Alone and doped up on pain medication for his broken wrist, Justin started to think about what he needed to be happy again. He thought for a long, long time before realizing that the answer was simple, and had been in front of him all along.

He called JC.

**

In a dramatic shift, Justin was literally on the edge of his seat until JC arrived. JC hadn’t questioned or even considered, just told Justin he’d get a flight as soon as possible. Justin knew that he understood.

Brimming with restless energy, he drove down into the quaint village near the castle. Mixed in among the modern chain stores and restaurants were tiny shops that still sold hand-made sweaters and microbrew ales. He bought a pint of something dark and strong at the pub, where a couple of the waitresses looked at him coyly, but none were bold enough to approach. There was a soccer game on TV, and Justin tried to pretend he was watching.

"You Yanks never appreciate football," the bartender said with a note of disgust. He was wiping dry a rack of freshly washed glasses, glasses perched on top of his head, apron stretched over his generous waistline.

"It's an American football thing. Once you've experienced a Super Bowl, you can never go back to this."

"You need to go to a World Cup game," the bartender countered. "The World Cup is bigger than 20 of your Super Bowls."

They bantered back and forth until the bartender's attention was called to other customers. Justin smiled as he finished his beer and left a generous tip. He wondered about people who spent time backpacking through Europe, visiting local bars and pubs in all the different countries. He'd always been ushered into the trendiest nightspots during his tours, missing this bit of culture.

He signed a few autographs on his walk back to the car, and bought a hand-knit shawl for his grandmother. His family had given him grief about being away for Christmas- it certainly wasn't the first time, but more that he had the opportunity to be at home and wasn't taking it. Only his mom had seemed to understand Justin's need to get away.

It started to rain on the drive home, but the staff had a fire going in almost every room once he dashed from the courtyard into the main house. Someone was there to take his coat and bring him hot tea, laced with strong whiskey. His first reaction was to dump it out- he'd just had a beer, and too much alcohol meant hours of working out the next day. Plus, he wanted to be level-headed when JC arrived in- he checked his watch- four hours. But, he rationalized, this sabbatical was like a vacation, and he figured that at least everyone once in a while, rogue musicians could drink tea with whiskey without worrying about it. Instead, he let his mind wander.

**

A year and a half earlier, Justin had been back in the studio when JC stopped by.

"Just because I'm in town, and like, I don't want to talk to people. Why is it that every time I don't want to talk to people, my phone won't stop ringing?" JC had wondered, leaning dangerously far back in a swiveling desk chair. They sat at the boards while everyone else was out at lunch, listening to bits of the tracks that Justin had laid down already.

"The world is a weird, weird place." Justin had fought with Cameron that morning about not having any clean bowls and whose turn it had been to load the dishwasher. It was absolutely ridiculous, and had escalated into a battle of epic proportions, leaving him in a sour mood.

JC kicked his feet up onto the console and swiveled back and forth, head bobbing to the music. "This is good. I'm gonna kidnap you and make you produce some stuff for my next album."

"When are you gonna get working on that?"

"Soon." JC swung around to face Justin. He smiled, because he'd been saying 'soon' for years. "Anyway, Ty's all busy in school now so I'll probably head back into the studio."

"So, you lost your entertainment." Justin laughed, because Tyler was taking law school very seriously, studying all the time.

"Something like that." The track ended, and Justin cued up one from a few days earlier, more upbeat and trendy.

JC's foot tapped out the rhythm, his fingers danced the keyboard notes on his denim-clad thigh. "You never cease to amaze me with the stuff that comes out of your brain."

Happiness bubbled up in Justin, stamping out some of the mean left from the morning. He was so glad JC stopped by. JC always made him feel like everything in the world was right at his fingertips, and all he had to do was reach to take hold. It was the best feeling to know that someone else believed in you.

They listened for a little while longer, but soon JC had to go, heading off to his next appointment in a day filled with useless meetings about absolutely nothing.

"I hate Hollywood," he said, standing. He stuck his phone in his pocket and gave Justin a hug.

Maybe Justin clung a little too long, but he was just so happy to have JC there, at that moment, in that state of misery. JC went still in his arms and pulled back a bit, so they could look at each other.

"J," he started, and Justin knew instantly what was wrong.

"I'm sorry. It's just. Sorry." They'd had the conversation before, about the risks and fears. About timing.

"You've got a girlfriend. One who, unless something has drastically changed in the past two months, you love. A lot."

"I do." He did. He couldn't imagine his world without Cameron, even with the stupid fights and escalating tempers. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go there, you know. I was just. It's been a rough morning, and I'm glad you stopped by."

Justin forced himself to leave it at that. After a long moment of staring with a blank look on his face, JC shrugged.

"Someday," he said. "What you're ready. You call, you know the drill. I'll be there. But be sure, before you make the call."

Justin had nodded, and walked him out to the lobby. A couple of the guys had been coming back from lunch, so their goodbye was short and informal, leaving nothing resolved.

Until now.

**

When JC arrived at the castle, Justin was waiting to greet him at the door. JC looked like heaven- a soft sweater and jeans worn from travel, sneakers and a smile that melted Justin’s heart.

He was so happy that he’d made the call. Just seeing JC seemed to ground him, anchor him back to reality. When JC pulled him into a hug, it was even better.

"You rented a castle," JC said, staring up at the high walls.

"I know. It’s great huh?"

"Dude. You rented a castle." JC hefted his bag higher on his shoulder, waving off the butler’s attempt to take it away. "I was surprised you called."

Justin stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "I didn’t think you’d actually come."

"Yeah you did." JC’s lips quirked in something like a smile.

"Okay, I did. At least, I was hoping. Anyway, now that you’re here, well. It’s good."

"What did you do?" JC asked, eyes on Justin’s wrist.

"Oh." He grinned sheepishly. "I thought the long hallway upstairs would be a great place to try skateboarding."

"Where did you find a skateboard in a British castle?" JC asked, puzzled.

Justin paused. "I have no idea. It was just in the mudroom. I didn’t even realize how weird that was.

JC giggled, and Justin grinned. He’d missed that sound.

Jetlag pulled at JC, so Justin showed him to his room and let him sleep. The letdown was instantaneous- JC was here, it was all going to be okay. He wandered down the hall to his own room, rubber-soled shoes all but silent as they crossed the old stone floors. He changed into a pair of well-worn sleep pants and crawled into bed. He didn’t really sleep, but let his mind wander around.

Justin tried to imagine how the conversation with JC would go. He had no idea how to approach the subject that had been all but taboo for over ten years. They’d danced around it often enough but no one had ever come out and said the words. He came up with seven or eight different scenarios as to how it might go, and all of them sounded hopelessly corny.

Giving up on sleep, Justin got out of bed and slipped back into his sneakers. He might as well work off some of the nervous energy on the treadmill.

**

JC slept the clock around, so Justin didn’t see him until breakfast the next day. He was sitting in a sunbeam in the grand dining hall when Justin arrived for breakfast, reading what looked like a travel magazine.

"I saw this at the airport, and thought it might have something interesting in it." He held up the cover to show Justin the title "Wales Weekend Getaways."

"Does it?"

"Nope, not a thing."

There was coffee, blessed coffee, and tea, of course. Justin went for the strong stuff and laced it with sugar. JC was already halfway through his cup, eating a plateful of what passed as breakfast around there.

"How can you eat all that?" The pile of greasy sausage and potatoes, eggs and buttery toast made Justin’s stomach churn. JC just shrugged and gobbled up another mouthful.

Happier with cereal and grapefruit, Justin chose the seat across from JC rather than sitting at the head of the table. He found himself watching JC eat, curiously fascinated with the way JC could eat and eat and never seemed to gain a pound.

JC caught him staring. "What?"

"Nothing." Justin almost blushed, something he hadn’t done in years. He picked up his spoon and ate in peace.

Not the time for conversation, he decided. There would be plenty of other opportunities.

**

They went for a walk into the hills, because the weather stayed fair and the green grass called for strolling. There were well-trod trails for serious hiking, but one of the castle workers told them that they could wander off it they wanted, to explore the less-seen Welsh countryside.

"The folks around here are friendly," he’d said. "They rarely shoot trespassers these days."

There was small talk to be made while walking- gossip about mutual friends and plans for the next few months. Justin left those intentionally vague- where he was in six months depended a lot on how the next few days turned out. Then again, if he kept avoiding the situation, nothing would happen at all.

JC, for his part, had kept quiet about it as well. Justin had nothing but respect for someone who would fly halfway around the world when a friend asked, and not even ask why.

They stopped by a gurgling brook, icy water racing down the hillside.

"Wanna swim?" Justin asked, giving JC’s shoulder a threatening shove. JC, always graceful, danced backwards. He sat down on a boulder, a safe distance away from Justin.

Justin stared at the water. "I could dive right in. I hate this cast- it’s so hard to take a decent shower with one arm stuck out of the spray." He collapsed to the grass, ignoring its dewy wetness. "I bet this is like, where secret lovers used to meet, you know. It’s pretty hidden."

"They’d come up here, their families forbidding them to see each other. Sworn to marry other people."

"It’d be a good spot for a secret rendezvous." Justin twirled a blade of grass in his hand, thinking about it. "Have you ever had sex outside?"

"What?" JC gasped out in a half-laugh. "Seriously?"

"Just curious. Come on, what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?"

JC had to think for a minute. "Well, the weirdest place isn’t outside, but I have done it outside. "

"Me too. I mean, a few times." Justin tossed the grass into the river and picked another piece. "What’s the weirdest place?"

"You first," JC demanded. Justin knew then that his had to be really good.

"Um. Well, one time Cam and I were hanging out on the set, you know, and it was just. One of those days when I had eight hours between call times, but didn’t feel like going home. So, we were just hanging out, and she was complaining that it had been raining and she had to go tanning, but that day was nice so we ended up laying out on the roof of the trailer, and. I mean, we had to stay really low so no one from the ground could see us, and these two Teamsters stopped right underneath us to smoke and we were just stuck there, so. That was pretty much the weirdest."

"You’re lucky no one had an aerial shot of that." Justin blanched, and JC laughed. "Okay. For me- dressing room at a baby GAP. With Bobbie, when she was shopping for her cousin’s kids one Christmas."

"Really? Wait. They have dressing rooms at Baby GAP? For babies?"

"Maybe it was the kid store, I don’t know. There were little people clothes."

Justin tried to picture JC up against the wall of a tiny dressing room, trying not to make noise, biting his lip. He shifted, pants fitting a little bit tighter.

"Britney and I did it in a limo right in the middle of Times Square once. There were cars and people, like everywhere, knocking on the windows." He’d been scared to death that the doors would somehow become unlocked. She’d gotten off on it. "That was kinda weird. Not really my thing, though."

JC was smiling. "What?" Justin asked.

"I got a hand job on the tea cups at Disney World."

Justin’s mouth fell open and he couldn’t do anything except concede defeat.

Disney World. That was the work of a true master.

**

They were sitting in the underground room that had been converted to a media room when Justin said "I think I want to get all my tattoos lasered off." It wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all, but "Gee, JC, I’m ready to fuck you now," didn’t roll off the tongue quite so easily.

JC grimaced, pita chip halfway to his mouth, hummus dangerously close to falling onto his shirt. "Ouch."

"Yeah, but. Blank canvas, you know? I’m just sick of them all."

JC thought about it. "If you had to keep only three, which ones would they be?"

Justin chewed his lip as he thought. "The flames, cause they were first. The band on my leg with the Zodiac sign, cause I like that one. And the cross, cause it’s really well done and forces me to keep my arms in shape."

JC smiled. He would have chosen those three too.

Abruptly changing the subject, Justin gestured across the room to where the wine cellar sat behind an iron grate. "Do you think this was like, the dungeon before? Like, were people tortured down here?"

Glancing around, JC pictured people hanging from chains on the walls, rats crawling the perimeter. His skin itched. "Wanna go see if it stopped raining?"

Equally creeped out by his own suggestion, Justin hastily followed JC upstairs, abandoning the possible torture chamber as the TV screen faded to black.

**

The longer they didn’t talk, the harder it was to bring it up, so for once in his life, Justin took the easy road and played dumb. They explored the castle, climbing towers and peering into what might have at one time been dark corners. Electricity had really taken away the damp.

The best part, though, was the great hall. Probably used for entertaining and dancing in medieval times, it now stood as a showroom to the castle’s centuries of collectables. Include armor, which was sadly too small for either of them.

The swords, though. Those were perfectly useable.

"On guard," JC called, striking a fighting pose. Justin swept the sword across his chest and bowed. With a clang of metal, they began to fence, dancing across the floor.

"I wish I could do that thing where you flip off the wall and keep fighting," Justin panted as he dodged and blocked JC’s thrust. The clank of sword against sword rang out and echoed in the great stone room.

"You’d end up with a broken neck," JC thrust again, and came perilously close to piercing Justin’s side. Justin danced back, knowing JC would never actually stab him and yet still not quite wanting to be boxed into the corner. They moved across the room as though elaborately choreographed.

Thrust, block, spin, duck, sidestep- they fought with smiles on their faces and no intent to harm. It was all good clean fun until the butler appeared in the doorway with a dour frown. JC saw him first and stopped, Justin almost slicing his arm off when he didn’t move out of the way.

"What are you… oh." Turning, Justin tried a smile. "Sorry."

"These are not your toys. They’re weapons! Meant to gravely injure people. And on top of that, these are priceless items." He held out his hand. "I swear you Americans think everything’s out of one of your video games."

JC and Justin gave him the swords and walked out of the room shoulder to shoulder like scolded children.

"I bet I could do that wall flip thing," Justin mumbled. He glanced around and took a running start, getting halfway up the wall before falling back on his shoulder. His cast his the ground with a painful thump.

"Ow." It didn’t help that JC was laughing, sinking down on the floor next to him. "It’s not funny."

"It really is," JC said, trying to regain some composure. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I probably should have tried that in a room with carpet." His elbow was scraped and starting to bleed.

JC bit his lip when he saw. "You sure?" He took Justin’s arm and turned it to examine. "It’s just a scratch."

"Yeah. Stings, but I’m fine." They were sitting so close, Justin’s arm in JC’s hands. He held his breath. This was it, it had to be it.

But rather than kiss him, JC just let go and said "You should really get some Neosporin on that." He got up and pulled Justin to his feet.

Moment broken, Justin went off to doctor his injuries and jerk off thinking about JC.

**

They made English muffin pizzas for dinner. JC kept giggling over the fact that they weren’t called English muffins in England, even though Justin pointed out several times they were in Wales, not England.

"They have their own language, even." He pointed with a fork to drive home the idea.

"I know, I know. It’s just. It makes you think, you know? Do they call it, I don’t know, French kissing in France?"

Justin choked on his mouthful of tomato and cheese. "Dude. Your mind works in very mysterious ways." And also, he thought, JC, kissing. He was going to be the next person to kiss JC. He was going to kiss JC, soon.

JC started laughing again, and this time, Justin joined in.

**

Two days after the muffin-naming incident, JC finally broke the spell. They were walking the castle wall, which was probably a dangerous place to bring up such a topic. It was a long fall should anyone stumble while running away. He ignored that.

"Are you ever going to talk about it?"

Justin studiously looked off at the sheep in the distance. There were a lot of sheep. "I really really don’t want to."

JC scratched his head and leaned against a crumbling block. "It’s getting kinda hard to avoid the subject, Justin. It’s that 900 pound gorilla in the room, you know?"

"It’s a castle, JC. Find another room if you don’t like to be in the one with me."

JC closed his eyes and reached for Justin’s hand. At the touch, Justin turned. He smiled a little bit, but it was a dreary grin. "I guess I’m not very good at being alone."

"That’s not what this is." JC squeezed Justin’s hand, tugged so he could walk a little bit closer. "You called me here, Justin. If that doesn’t mean what I think it means, you have to tell me. Before I get in too deep."

Justin licked his lips. "I’m really bad at this. I’m afraid that if we do this, it’ll go badly. It hurts too much when it’s someone else. I couldn’t survive it if it were you."

JC stood up tall, almost eye-to-eye with Justin. "Don’t live by fear. You told me that, remember? I was so scared after LA. You were just a kid and you were so wise. Listen to your own advice for once." He brought a hand up to Justin’s cheek and leaned close. Justin smelled of aftershave and fresh air. His skin, for once, was smooth. "You have to tell me you want this," JC whispered, only inches away.

Justin’s breath came out in a shaky breath. "Okay," he finally answered.

"Not good enough."

"I. Want. This." The last word wasn’t even out of Justin’s mouth before JC’s lips were on his. Soft and pliant, and instantly open, JC’s lips moved over Justin’s in a perfect kiss. Justin was responsive, his hand diving into JC’s hair, holding his head close so that he could kiss more deeply. JC’s thumb stroked along Justin’s cheek as they kissed, sending shivers of excitement across Justin’s skin.

He had wanted this. It was nerve-racking, thinking about what might happen or what life would be like when they left here, but he wanted this more than he’d wanted anything for a very long time.

When they parted to breathe, Justin tipped JC’s head up so he could look right into his eyes. "Promise me that if this ends we’ll stay friends."

"No." Stubbornly, JC furrowed his brow. "I’m not making promises that this is going to end. This isn’t going to end, Justin. You’re it for me. You’ve always been."

"I’m sorry it took me so long to realize. To be ready."

"You’re here now." JC kissed him again. "No promises. Just you and me."

"And the sheep," Justin reminded.

"And the sheep. But maybe we could go inside? I was thinking you might want some help with something."

"Oh yeah?" Justin linked his good hand with JC’s and held them fast between their bodies. "Something I’m gonna like?"

"Well, someone was complaining about not being able to take a decent shower. So I thought we’d start there. But if you’d rather…"

Justin surged forward and kissed JC again, quick and wet. "And then maybe we could try out the rest of the rooms together."

"What about the staff?"

Justin made frustrated noises and kissed JC one more time. "I’m sure they’ll make themselves scarce. If not, well. We can kill them, hide the bodies. Make the ghosts a part of the tour."

JC stroked Justin’s cheek and kissed him softly. "This is it," he promised. "I want you to know that."

Justin thought about years of friendship, whiskey and tea, and all the good things that he’d ever had. "This is it," he promised. "Now, shower."

They left the castle wall together, sheep still grazing in the fields.  
END


End file.
